Renaissance I Know The Pieces Fit
by Alianne-Graysie
Summary: A 14-year-old girl is orphaned while on vacation in Japan. She's taken in by Soichiro Yagami, head detective behind her parent's case, and his family. Then she is sent to Wammy's House because of her near-genius intelligence. Will she ever find a home?
1. Prologue

**Renaissance (I Know The Pieces Fit)**

**A Death Note Fanfiction**

**By: Alianne Graysie **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters or basic plot except for my own O.C.'s.**

Prologue: August 13, 2002

'These six things the Lord hates, yes, seven are an abomination to Him: A proud look, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that are swift in running to evil, a false witness who speaks lies, and one who sows discord among his brethren.'

_Proverbs 6:16-19_

Mother peered at a map of Tokyo and took a dainty bite out of her McDouble.

"So we're only about ten minutes away from our hotel, right?" I asked over the loud, Japanese babble in the McDonald's restaurant near the airport.

Mother nodded her head.

"Once we unpack, we can change and check out some of the old buildings." She said.

"Yeah, that's about all we'll be able to do today." Father added, glancing at his watch as he stuffed fries into his mouth. "We got here a little late anyway." I frowned a little, but then remembered that we had booked two weeks at our hotel. We would have plenty of time to explore everything.

As we headed out towards our rental, a blue Toyota Camry, Father belched, patting his stomach.

"Didn't have enough salt on those fries." He muttered as Mother and I giggled.

We pulled out into the busy afternoon streets. I amused myself by deciphering the kanji on the road signs. One of the main reasons I had been so excited about visiting Japan was the fact that I had recently mastered its language, thanks to my extra-credit college courses.

Mother and Father rolled down the windows, letting the fresh August breeze circulate through the car and whip my long black hair around my face. I grinned widely and breathed a happy prayer to God: _Thank You, Father, for this amazing opportunity!_

I had given my heart to Him a little over three years ago, and I'd never been happier and more at peace in my entire life. But, I supposed, that's what happened when one invited love Himself into their life. I knew I could never survive without Him, and I couldn't understand how others managed to do just that.

They just didn't know what they were missing.

About ten minutes later, our hotel, a rather large Comfort Inn, loomed up in the distance, like a lighthouse in a sea of cars.

"There it is." Father said as we approached the light. He eased into the turning lane on the right; the excitement in our little car was overwhelming.

As we pulled into the parking lot, I bounced up and down in the backseat, my heart pounding with eagerness. Mother smiled amusedly in the rearview mirror, her blue eyes dancing.

Finally we parked and began to drag our luggage up to the third floor of the seven-story hotel. As we worked, Mother and Father stopped often to kiss each other lightly on the lips.

"Eww." I said each time, sticking my tongue out at them. They merely laughed.

Once we had checked in at the front desk and squared everything away in our room, Father commanded that we dress up.

"We're going to see some pretty important buildings, and I don't want us to look like a bunch of American tourists."

"Even though we are a bunch of American tourists." I said, flopping onto one of the queen sized beds.

Father smiled sardonically at me, but didn't reply.

Mother walked over to the balcony door and pulled the curtain back.

"Sure isn't much of a view." She said dryly. I glanced up from my place on the pillows. She was gazing out onto the parking lot, hands on her hips, long brown hair rippling in waves down her back.

Father joined her, slipping a muscular arm around her thin waist.

"At least we can see our car from here." He said, pointing over to the right. I pushed myself from the bed and stood. Mother beckoned me over and put her arm over my shoulders.

"It's so nice to be here, just the three of us, as a family." She said as she leaned her head on my shoulder. The sunglasses on her head pressed up against my neck. I thanked God again, as I had several times before, for her sweet, dynamic presence.

"Yeah." Father and I replied in unison. He stepped away from Mother and pointed at me, eyes narrowed playfully.

"Hey, Genius Girl. I told you to stop reading my mind."

Mother and I giggled at this ages-old joke.

Once Father deemed us worthy to be seen in the Japanese public, he gathered up his keys, Mother grabbed her camera, and we were ready to go; we piled into the elevator, traipsed through the lobby, and hopped back in the car.

That night was easily one of the most enjoyable nights of my life. Mother took about a million pictures of us all standing in front of the beautiful, ancient houses and buildings in Tokyo. We explored the town a bit as well and ate at a nice little café that served traditional Japanese cuisine. Mother and Father liked to amuse themselves by having me translate random conversations we heard on the street.

When we returned to the hotel, it was going on nine o'clock, and the jet lag was catching up to us. The three of us plodded up to our room and collapsed onto our beds.

"Well, that was fun." Mother said as she lay back against the pillows. I nodded absentmindedly, half-asleep already, and smiled as I counted my many, many blessings.

Father was already snoring. Mother poked him in the ribs.

"Did you grab the keys out of the car?" she asked. He sat up, rubbing his big brown eyes, and shook his head.

"Nope. I better go get them." He stood and made his way to the door. "Be right back."

As he left, Mother turned toward me, cradling her chin in her palm.

"He always forgets the keys." She said, rolling her eyes.

I giggled and nodded in agreement.

The breeze coming in through the open balcony door swirled about in the room, ruffling the curtains a bit. Mother and I both closed our eyes.

I was startled awake when Father's shouts echoed up from the parking lot. Mother and I were on our feet in an instant, running toward the balcony. _Please, protect us,_ I prayed quickly as we leaned over the railing.

"That's my car!" Father ran out towards our car, the streetlamps illuminating his black hair and bulky figure.

I looked at the car; a man wearing all black had been attempting to pick the lock on the door, from the looks of the metal instruments he held in his hands.

Mother turned and ran toward the door.

"Stay here!" she called over her shoulder as the door slammed behind her.

I was frozen for a few seconds, stunned by the suddenness of the situation.

Then I turned and bolted toward the door.

Once outside in the hall, I debated for a moment: Elevator, or stairs?

I decided on the stairs and took them two at a time, almost falling down twice.

Breathless, I dashed into the lobby just in time to see Mother exit the hotel. The double doors closed slowly behind her; I hurried after her, ignoring confused questions from the woman at the front desk.

A loud bang greeted me as soon as I stepped outside.

Terrified, aghast, I watched as Father toppled to the ground.

Mother let out a wail of anguish, dashing to his side. The thief, now bolder having made his first kill, crossed the space between himself and Mother in three long strides.

"Ray!" Mother buried her face in his now bloody chest, her sense abandoned with grief.

I felt my knees hit the pavement, felt the tears making salty trails down my cheeks. My heart cried out to God, begging, pleading one desperate word over and over.

_Why? _

The thief placed the barrel of the gun against her temple. She stiffened; I screamed in an effort to warn her.

"Mother!"

The thief pulled the trigger, watched the blood spray onto the pavement, watched her body slump over Father's still torso.

Time decelerated. The black clad man turned toward me with wide, coal-colored eyes. I stared at him, tears blurring my vision, mind numbed with shock.

He lifted the gun, pointing it at my face, just as sirens began to blare in the distance. Instead of killing me with my parents, he turned back to our car and busted the driver's window with a hammer, pulling up the lock.

He leapt inside, revved the engine, and with a squeal of tires made his escape.

Once he was gone, time resumed its normal pace. The stunned and horrified clerk bustled outside, kneeling beside me.

"Come inside!" she insisted. "He could come back!"

I couldn't pry my eyes from my parent's lifeless bodies.

_My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?_

Slowly my shock succumbed to rage; I began to tremble violently, fists clenched, nails painfully embedded in my palms.

"No." I said, shakily getting to my feet. The clerk stared at me with wide, unbelieving eyes. "I'm going after him."

As I said the words, God's still, small, familiar voice replied in the depths of my grief.

_No. Revenge does not belong to you._

I ignored Him and stumbled forward, gradually increasing speed til I was sprinting after the killer. The clerk called after me. I ignored her as well and focused solely on keeping my feet moving forward.

I found the sidewalk, stopped to consider which way he went, and noticed a trail of broken glass leading slightly to the left before stopping. I chose this route and continued forward, my legs fueled with adrenaline, fury, and fresh tears.

My mind remained empty of everything but raw grief, and the murder, playing over and over in my mind like a skipping record. I dashed past coffee shops, restaurants, running into locals who cursed at me, shaking their fists after me.

I could care less what these people thought of me.

Two squad cars raced past me, their sirens blaring. But they were headed in the opposite direction, away from the hotel.

I churned through two intersections before realizing that I could never catch up with a speeding car. In my hopelessness and exhaustion I stumbled and fell, catching myself hard on my hands and knees.

There I let the tears overwhelm me.

"Father, Jesus, help me…" I prayed in a fervent, gasping whisper.

Nothing.

"Help me!" I cried. A few passerby sped up their pace and stared as they passed.

I looked up and realized I had fallen outside of an upscale restaurant.

Not that I cared. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed until my head throbbed and my whole body trembled from the effort.

Suddenly I felt a presence beside me.

"My God, what happened to you?" a voice said in Japanese. The voice was male, probably a teenager.

I glanced up, saw his concerned brown eyes and straight brown hair, noticed his family standing behind him, looking on with alarm.

His mother and father held a young girl between them. Her eyes were wide with confusion and fear.

"Are you alright?" the boy asked. He took my stinging hands gently and studied my face.

"She may be American." His father suggested.

I choked a single word past my constricted throat.

"Yes." I confirmed.

The family seemed stunned by my response.

"What happened to you?" the boy asked again, this time in English.

I took a long, halting breath before answering.

"A thief tried to steal our car. My father tried to stop him. Mother ran out there as well. He shot them both and escaped in the car."

Suddenly the boy's father joined him at my side. He pulled a notepad from his jacket and fished through his pocket.

"Do you remember the license plate number?" he asked gently.

I shook my head.

"It was a rental, a blue Toyota Camry."

"What year?"

"2000."

He clicked the pen and scribbled on the notepad.

"Where did you rent from?"

"Hertz, a block or so from the airport."

He thought for a few seconds. Tears began to well in my eyes again.

"Where were you staying?"

"Comfort Inn, two blocks that way." I pointed back in the direction I came. As I blinked, the fresh moisture spilled down my cheek.

"Are…are your parents still there?" he asked a little uncertainly.

I nodded, unable to speak.

They were silent for a moment. I let a fresh wave of grief crash through me and almost toppled over onto my side. The boy held tight to my wrists as the groans wracked my body.

"We need an ambulance. Comfort Inn, about a mile south of the airport. Victims were shot according to witness." As I opened my eyes he glanced sadly at me. "Their daughter." He listened for a moment, confirmed quickly, and snapped the phone shut.

"Will you come with me to the police station?" he asked me softly.

I nodded slowly. The boy helped me get to my feet.

"Can you walk?" I took a tentative step forward. My head spun sickeningly; I pitched forward into the boy's waiting arms. "I'll take that as a no." He carefully picked me up, one arm under my knees, the other supporting my back. I clung tightly to his neck, helpless to stop the whimpers of agony trembling on my lips.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One: August 13, 2002

I am weary with my crying; my throat is dry; my eyes fail while I wait for my God.

Psalm 69:3

"I hate to do this to you, what with the incident being so fresh, but we need some eyewitness information." I sat across a small white table from the boy's father in a small white room in an equally small and white chair. "I'm the chief detective here at the NPA, by the way." He smiled softly. "My name is Soichiro Yagami."

I merely stared at him, tears still streaming down my face. I had gotten so used to them that I began to wonder if I would ever stop.

Soichiro's smile faded, and he cleared his throat, digging around in his pocket again. "Here." He slid a small packet of tissues across the table toward me.

I gratefully blew my nose and managed to dam up my eyes.

"Now," he said once I was finished, "we have your name on file from the hotel you were staying at. It appears one of the clerks called us right after you left the vicinity." He shuffled through some papers inside of a black folder. "Miss Ashelle Benjamin, correct?"

I nodded.

"And your parents' names were Ray and Penelope Benjamin?"

I nodded again; my vision blurred once more.

"We confirmed with the hotel staff that you and your parents checked into the hotel at around three p.m., left an hour later, and then returned close to eight thirty. May I ask where you went during that time frame?"

"We went to see the sights around Tokyo. Mother wanted to see the older buildings and take pictures right away." I smiled, but just as soon as the expression came it was gone.

"You have pictures of the places you went to?"

"Yes, back at the hotel."

Soichiro asked me a dozen other questions about our whereabouts that day and asked if we had seen anyone suspicious during our travels.

"Not really. You know, as tourists and everything, we were more focused on the places and the buildings than anything else. I have just finished learning the Japanese language, you see, and I was reading anything I could fix my eyes on and listening to the locals talk. I didn't notice much else."

"Oh, really?" Soichiro leaned forward a bit, genuinely interested in this last piece of information.

"Yes." I replied in Japanese. "Would you rather question me in your native language, to make things easier?"

Soichiro smiled, a genuine, warm grin that lit up the room despite the horrendous circumstances.

"Certainly." He replied. I marveled at the way the word rolled off of his tongue, at how much more at ease I had made him. "Let's see how much you've learned."

He continued to interrogate me, this time in Japanese. At times I had to ask him to slow down, but otherwise his speech made perfect sense to me.

Amidst the joy of putting my knowledge to use, though, lurked the sharp pain and utter desolation I felt in the deepest part of my being. As the conversation wore on, the rush faded and I found myself replying with one or two words whereas before I had been giving whole paragraphs.

Soichiro noticed this and remained silent for a moment.

"One more question." He said. I nodded, feeling the monster of rage and hurt creeping up on me, closer with each second that passed. "Do you have any living relatives in the States?"

I thought for a moment, remembering something Mother had told me about our family.

You're the only child of only children, she used to tell me. No aunts, uncles, or cousins. My grandparents were already dead, two of them before I was even born. And our house in Montana, otherwise known as Nowhere, USA, prevented us from making, or keeping, any close friends.

The reality of the situation came pounding in, breaching my fragile facade and sending me into another bout of breath-robbing sobs. I had no family left. There was nowhere for me to go. I was hopelessly lost in a world I knew little about.

Save me, Father! Why have you abandoned me?

After a moment my sobs subsided enough to let me speak. I lifted my head; Soichiro stared at me with a mixture of concern and bewilderment.

"No. No family." I replied, my bottom lip quivering.

Soichiro shot me a dubious glance, the pen in his hand hovering uncertainly above the yellow legal pad.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"You can search my records." I said simply, burying my face in my hands.

He excused himself and left the room.

At twelve o'clock midnight I found myself in a guest bedroom at the Yagami house, still managing to produce tears. Soichiro had taken it upon himself to give me a place to stay until something could be done about my lack of family.

Just when I thought my eyes would surely remain dry, they began to spill water once more. Jesus' mournful cry from the cross rewound and replayed itself over and over in my mind.

My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?

There was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in." I murmured hoarsely.

The boy, Soichiro's son, opened the door slowly and stepped inside. The light was still on; I hadn't bothered getting up to turn it off.

"How are you?" he asked in Japanese, and then quickly reverted to English. "Forgive me. How are you?"

"No need to apologize." I replied in Japanese. "Talk to me however you wish. To answer your question, I'm in terrible amounts of pain, I can't force myself to sleep, and I'm lonely."

The boy seemed startled for a moment, but quickly found his composure.

"You know Japanese. That's…" he trailed off, studying my weary face.

This entire night seemed to have lasted an eternity. "I'm sorry." He said.

I shrugged.

"So is everyone else." I knew I was being bitter, but at the moment I didn't care.

"My name is Light." The boy said, ignoring my hateful remark.

His kindness caught me off guard; red patches of shame blossomed on my cheeks.

"My name is Ashelle." I held out a weary hand. He crossed the room and took it, shaking it gently. I sighed as my fingers slipped out of his grip. "I'm sorry for being rude."

"So is everyone else." Light replied. But when I glanced up at his smirking face I knew he had been kidding.

I managed a weak grin. The exhaustion compressed within my body chose that moment to strike.

"Keep me company." I mumbled as my heavy eyelids closed.

"Certainly." I heard Light reply softly. Then, blessed blackness.


	3. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two: August 22, 2002**_

_Though his hatred is covered by deceit, his wickedness will be revealed before the assembly._

_Proverbs 26:26_

I calmly sipped a glass of sweet iced tea as I watched the police put the man who murdered my parents behind bars. Light sat beside me, clutching the remote, eyes glued to the television.

Did this man deserve my hatred? Or did he deserve compassion and mercy?

As I looked into his empty, tar colored eyes, I tried to see him through Jesus' eyes. But no matter how hard I tried, the red veil of rage wouldn't lift from my now cloudy vision.

"No way!" Light cried beside me. I had been staring at the television, too, but hadn't noticed the introduction of the next news story. I blinked back the tears and listened.

"The infamous Los Angeles 'Beyond Birthday' case has finally been closed today. FBI agent Naomi Misora arrested this eccentric killer earlier this morning, and people all over the world are celebrating his capture." I watched vaguely as the screen displayed a picture of the murderer and reported details on the case that had been plaguing California for months.

"You know, Dad says that your parents' murder could be part of an uprising of criminal activity around the world because of this case." Light said. I glanced at him, having guessed as much myself. "Funny that the two should be put in prison on the same day, huh?"

"Yeah, funny." I rose with my tea and headed toward the kitchen.

Light followed; I realized that I was being bitter again.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. I set my glass down and turned to face him.

"No, don't apologize. I'm just being a jerk." I put a hand to my forehead. "Forgive me."

Light smiled a little, taking my hand.

"Hey, you have every right to be a jerk, with what happened to you."

I fixed him with a meaningful glare.

"Did Jesus act like a jerk when the Romans crucified him?" I asked.

_My God, my God, why have You forsaken me? _I shuddered a little as the words echoed through time.

Light shrugged.

"I wouldn't know. I wasn't there." He saw the hurt expression on my face and quickly added, "But if I were to guess, I'd say he didn't."

I shook my head with a weak smile and poured myself some more tea.

_**August 25, 2002**_

"What am I going to do?" I knelt, head cradled in my arms, leaning forward onto the guest bed. Tears wet my cheeks and darkened the cloth under my face.

I couldn't possibly stay at the Yagami's house forever. Someone back in the States would surely claim me, whether it be the government or someone looking to adopt.

Funny thing was, I didn't want to go back. This was my new home, although I had only been here for about two weeks. I felt secure, even among these foreign people. Light was like the big brother I never had. But I didn't know how I was going to stop it if someone did come for me.

That was me, always the worry wart. But how could I not worry?

_Do not be anxious about anything._ God's response rippled throughout my being, stilling my nervous heart, calming the butterflies in my stomach. _I am understanding, I have strength. _His sweet assurances left me trembling, weak and completely relaxed. The only thing that kept me from sliding to the floor was the sudden rush of His glorious love. _I am with you. I will be with you. I knew you before birth. _

"Forgive me." I breathed, my voice a hoarse whisper. "Show me what I am to do."

_ A wise man will hear and increase learning, and a man of understanding will attain wise counsel. _

"Ashelle?" Light's voice startled me; I leapt to my feet, eyes wide, staring at his figure in the doorframe. He smiled nervously. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright." I let my shoulders slump in relief and invited him in.

"Just wanted to give you this. Dad said a call came for you." He tossed a cell phone at me; I caught it, fixing him with a questioning gaze. In response, he shrugged, but a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Hey, don't ask me. I'm just the messenger." With that he left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

I sat down on the bed, studying the small red device in my hands. Since I'd been with the Yagami's, I hadn't received a single call. My heart began to pound; surely it wasn't someone from the States! I wouldn't leave…I couldn't!

I let out a squeak as the phone vibrated in my hands.

_Private Number, _the clueless caller ID proclaimed. I let it ring three times before curiosity got the better of me. Flipping the phone open, I pressed it to my ear and, covering the receiver, took a deep breath to steady myself.

"Hello," I greeted in Japanese.

"Miss Benjamin, I presume?" An older gentleman with a distinctly English accent addressed me; I smacked myself mentally for not having more sense. Of course, anyone calling me would be English-speaking.

But the problem was, I had no idea who this man was.

"Yes?" I replied, in English this time.

"My name is Roger Ruvie, assistant manager of Wammy's House, an orphanage dedicated to raising and educating talented young people like yourself."

I was silent for a moment.

"Now, before you reject our proposal completely, let me explain what we have to offer."

I shook my head.

"I don't want to leave-"

"Please, Miss Benjamin, at least give me a chance." His voice had a hint of laughter in it. I decided to be polite and didn't say anything else. "Now, we are located in England, which I know will distance you from your new foster family. I understand the hardships you're facing, and I imagine that the pain you're feeling as of now is much stronger. Losing one's parents at your age is a crushing weight."

I said nothing, willing him to go on, and blinked back unbidden tears.

"I myself was an orphan. I lost my parents when I was seven." He cleared his throat before continuing. "Our founder, Dr. Quillsh Wammy, has dedicated his life to raising young people. And he does not merely take care of them, providing them with the essentials of survival. He gives them a one-of-a-kind education experience found nowhere else in the world."

_Education._ That word lodged itself into my brain, as if searching for a connection.

_A wise man will hear and increase learning…_ The realization hit me so suddenly that I gasped aloud. And although his explanation sounded more like some of the letters I'd gotten from colleges over the past year, I began to weep with wonder and awe.

"Miss Benjamin?" Mr. Ruvie's voice seemed concerned. "Are you alright?"

I waited a few seconds before responding with a cracked voice.

"Yes, I'll be fine." I said, drying my eyes on my sleeve. "Please, go on."

He did indeed go on, for the better part of twenty minutes, about their only facility in the English countryside, large dorm rooms, small class sizes, and privacy. As he continued to talk, I became more and more convinced that God's plan was being put into action. Only this time, He wasn't being so subtle.

"Now, on the issue of electronics." This statement demanded my undivided attention.

"Don't tell me." I groaned. "The only catch is that there's no electricity! Am I right?"

Mr. Ruvie chuckled heartily on the other line. I couldn't help but smile.

"Let me assure you, Miss Benjamin, that our facility is fully wired." He took a deep breath. "What I was going to tell you, though, _is _of the utmost importance. You see, the only way I'm able to talk to you like this now is because Mr. Yagami's phone is on a secure line." He paused to let that sink in. "If you choose to come, we'll have to ask you to put everything that runs on electricity in a separate bag and leave it with us. This includes CD players, cellular devices, Walkmans, etcetera."

"May I ask why?" I already knew the answer. It all lay in security.

"At the House, we have to guard our children very carefully. You see, we have some of the world's most brilliant youth under our roof, some of whom might grow to succeed the world's top scholars, detectives and scientists. And so, anything electronic that can transmit audio or video must be handed over to us. We'll provide you with a computer and other devices necessary for the assignments we give."

His answer sent me reeling. Their students were _that_ intelligent? I bit my lip nervously.

"I have a question." I said. "How do you know that I'll fit in with the rest of the students. I mean, they've probably lived there at the House from a very early age." I debated on whether to go on, and then decided I might as well. "And," I said a little less confidently, "I'm not exactly 'genius' material."

Mr. Ruvie didn't reply for a moment.

"Well, Miss Benjamin, I can't speak for the children, but I believe they'll adjust to you in time. Relationships require time and effort, and as with any transition, it will be awkward for the first couple of weeks." He chuckled a little before continuing. "As for your other statement, I for one beg to differ. You are taking college-level courses for credit, correct?"

"Yes." I replied warily. I wondered where he was getting this information.

"And you've learned three entire languages in less than six months, correct?"

"Yes." Besides learning Japanese, I had opted for French as well, along with the required Spanish, both at the beginning of my freshman year.

"You've scored perfectly on your grade-school and high school Core Content tests?"

I was starting to get a little nervous. "Yes."

"And your I.Q. is somewhere around 165, correct?"

I knew where this was going. "Yes, but-"

"As far as I'm concerned, you are just a little bit above the average I.Q. of all the students in our orphanage, you know three different languages, which is more than I can say for most of the students here, and you're only, what, 14 years old?"

I remained silent, stunned beyond words.

"Is my I.Q. really that high?" I asked softly as the silence became unbearable. "I mean, I'm just as smart as the other students?" _And he called them 'brilliant'._ I thought.

"That sounds about right to me." There was that laughter in his voice again. "I don't know why this is such a surprise to you."

"I never really understood what my I.Q. score meant. I mean, I knew it was pretty high, but I didn't realize…" I trailed off, trying to process this new line of thought.

"Yes, you are exactly the kind of talented student we're looking for." He concluded my thoughts and moved on to the next point. "Now, if you would like to come, we, as in myself and a chaperone, are prepared to come and retrieve you in about three day's time."

My heart leapt in alarm.

"So soon?" I bit my lip again, glancing worriedly toward the door. The Yagami's muffled voices from the living room sounded so cheerful and kind; I didn't want to leave them.

"Yes. I'm sorry this is such short notice, but it took us a while to find you, seeing as you had no relatives in the States. The new academic year begins in two weeks, and we need time to get you settled in." He made perfect sense, but still the thought of leaving the safety of the Yagami's home filled me with dread.

In a panic, I turned to God.

_What do I do?_ The question sounded silly; I already knew what his reply was.

Sure enough, He didn't answer. His earlier words chased themselves around in my head. I knew it was time to make a choice.

"Alright." I said. I took a deep breath. "What time should I be ready?"

The satisfaction in Mr. Ruvie's voice was evident as he rattled off his rough estimates.

"We should be in the air by tomorrow afternoon, arrive in Tokyo in the early morning hours, catch a few hours of decent sleep, and then, hopefully around three p.m., we'll leave to pick you up. We'll let you know for sure Wednesday morning when we arrive in Japan."

"Sounds good to me." I said, trying to hide the fear in my voice.

"Excellent. Until then, take care. Goodbye, Miss Benjamin."

The line was suddenly dead, and I was left staring at the red chunk of metal and plastic in my hand.


	4. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three: August 28, 2002**_

"_How shall we sing the Lord's song in a foreign land?"_

_Psalm 137:4_

It amazed me how quickly those three days passed. I stood before Light and his family, bags packed, at two-thirty in the afternoon on Wednesday. Sachiko, Light's mom, looked as if she might cry. Soichiro smiled at me sadly, and Light stared at the ground, scowling. Sayu, his sister, merely stood next to her mother, rubbing her arm nervously.

"Aw, come on, guys. It's not like I can't talk to you from England."

Sachiko began to cry. Light stepped forward and pulled me into a hug.

"I can't believe I'm letting you do this." He whispered next to my ear. I squeezed him tight, fighting back tears.

"I can't believe I'm going, either. You're not alone in this." My voice cracked a little, although I had been trying to lighten the mood. Light stepped back, and Soichiro took his place, enveloping me in huge, well-muscled arms.

"I'm going to miss you, but I'm glad you're getting this opportunity." He held me at arm's length and beamed. "Go out there and don't ever give up."

Sachiko almost bowled him over when it was her turn to say goodbye. She sobbed into my shoulder until Soichiro pulled her away, smiling apologetically.

"I'll make sure to send you my report cards." I assured her. She smiled through her tears and nodded.

Now all that remained was little Sayu. Although I hadn't talked to her much, I had learned that she was the average little sister, sweet and cute and secretly kind of a pest. I took the initiative this time and knelt in front of her. She stared at me with big, wide eyes, seeming a little surprised.

"Come here." She came a little closer and inclined her ear toward me. I glanced mischievously toward Light and whispered, "Keep up with the good work. I could never bug Light with as much talent as you do." She giggled a little. "And after I leave, make sure you bug him extra for me, okay?" To my surprise she threw her arms around my neck and laughed.

"I will." she said, linking her pinky with mine.

At that moment, the soft squeal of brakes sounded in the driveway. We all turned as one toward the sound; a black, four-door vehicle with tinted windows sat waiting on the pavement.

I turned back toward Light, who smiled weakly and gestured toward the car.

"Your chariot awaits."

Ten minutes later I sat in the backseat of the car, tinted window rolled down as I waved goodbye to the family that had harbored me for the past two weeks. To my surprise, no tears were forthcoming. I merely waved until I could no longer see them, and then rolled the window back up, feeling as if my parents had been murdered all over again.

Mr. Ruvie, who had insisted I call him Roger, turned around in the front passenger seat to face me.

"You made quite an impression on that family." He said softly. I glanced up into his blue eyes, so full of concern and sincerity.

"Thank you." I murmured, unable to break the gaze. Not that I minded. It was comforting in a way.

"I don't think there's anything I can do for you, other than offer you some refreshments." He said. I smiled weakly.

"Unless you have a pitcher of iced sweet tea lying around in here, thanks but no thanks."

The time it took to get to the airport was spent answering questions about my likes and dislikes, my favorite things, and what I would like in my room. I noticed that the driver purposefully avoided going down the street leading to Comfort Inn and Hertz, and was silently grateful.

The driver turned into the massive parking lot and hunted for a spot near the entrance.

"Now, you have that bag, don't you?" Roger asked as we clambered out of the car.

"I don't own anything electronic. My mother's camera was turned over to the police for the investigation. I got to keep a lot of the pictures, though. They even paid to get them developed."

Roger nodded with approval.

"I trust you. And that's less work for us."

I managed a small smile as we passed through security.

About an hour later, finally settled in on the plane, Roger informed me that the trip would last for about ten hours. We would arrive back in London at approximately nine in the morning, and at twelve we had a brief meeting with Dr. Wammy and the House's top advisor. Roger wouldn't tell me this advisor's name, no matter how much I bugged him.

"Get some sleep." He said, leaning back on his neck pillow. "You don't want to appear before our mystery guest half-awake, do you?"

I sighed and mimicked him, settling in for the trip.

"Well, the fact that we're going back in time doesn't help the sleep factor, either."

Roger just chuckled and faced the window.

At approximately eight o'clock London time, Roger shook me awake.

"Go freshen up. We land in an hour."

I followed his instructions, pulled my carry-on bag from the overhead luggage compartment, and headed toward the bathroom.

When I emerged twenty minutes later with hair neatly arranged, make-up applied, clean jeans and my nicest blouse on, Roger nodded his approval.

"Good. Very good. I like your blouse, by the way. Very professional looking." I examined the light blue garment and grinned.

"Thanks."

Upon landing, we passed through security once more and proceeded to the parking lot, towing our luggage behind us. I found it slightly odd that although our driver traveled with us, he hadn't said one word to us the entire time. He walked briskly beside us; he seemed a little more confident now that he was back in his native country.

We all piled into another black car.

"Do you have a fleet of black cars all around the world or something?" I asked as the driver smoothly whisked us into the early morning London traffic.

"Yes," Roger replied. "It just makes things easier for us on the occasion that we have to travel. Our students come from all over the world, so it does happen."

Our car crawled through the busy traffic. Although I had slept throughout the entire flight, I felt as if I could doze for a week.

Approximately thirty minutes later, we reached the outskirts of London and picked up speed. My face was glued to the window as ancient homes and beautiful moors sped by in a green and gray blur.

Roger glanced back at me with a smile.

"So, Miss Benjamin, how do you like England?"

"It's beautiful," I replied, forcing my eyes from the rolling green land. Roger beamed at me and turned back around with a sigh.

"Yes, it's good to be home." he said. With his words came a sudden rush of homesickness and longing for my parents; I bit back welling tears. It was so hard to believe that it had only been a little over two weeks since their murder. And now, here without the Yagami's, in this strange place, I felt like the biggest foreigner known to man.

As a result, I slumped in my seat, ignoring the world around me.

"Miss Benjamin?" I gasped and sat up quickly. I'd fallen asleep with my cheek against the window, and I hurriedly wiped my mouth on my sleeve. "The House is just ahead." Roger took a peek in the visor mirror and laughed when he saw my face. "And you may consider a re-application of lipstick."

I pulled a compact from my purse and scowled while Roger chuckled in the front seat.

Once I'd corrected the damage my impromptu nap had caused, I took a good look at the House in the distance. It towered at least four stories above the surrounding land, like a white beacon in a sea of green.

"You weren't kidding when you said 'in the English countryside'." I commented. "How long was I asleep?"

"About two hours." Roger said. "It's about eleven thirty now, so we'll arrive right on schedule."

As the House loomed closer and closer, my anticipation grew. What would the other children think? How would they react to my presence?

_Father, help me!_

Sooner than I would have liked, the driver passed through massive iron gates and eased to a stop beside the front doors.

"Thank you, William." Roger tipped his head gratefully toward the driver, who responded similarly. He then turned back to me and smiled. "Well, we're here."

His statement of the obvious did nothing to bolster my confidence. I managed a nervous smile in return and forced myself to leave the safety of the car.

After assuring me that my luggage would be taken care of, Roger escorted me up the white marble steps and through the imposing double doors. As we entered the establishment, my apprehension gave way to astonished wonder. Although the exterior of the building had seemed stark and austere, the inside was much more colorful and grand. We walked along a corridor lined with dark blue carpet and lit with three large chandeliers. The walls were a calming sky blue, and the doors every few feet were made of oak and boasted silver plaques bearing their purpose.

We didn't encounter a single soul coming up that hallway, and this continued as we turned to the left into a much larger corridor and stopped at the first door on the left. I glanced up at the plaque on the door.

_Dr. Quillsh Wammy, _it read. I gulped and glanced up at Roger.

"Smooth some of the wrinkles out of your blouse." He said with a soft smile. I hurriedly did as I was told, and Roger placed a hand on the doorknob. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be." I replied, trying in vain to still my trembling hands.

_Father, guide me. _

Roger turned the doorknob and ushered me inside.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: August 28, 2002

The beauty of the office stunned me for a moment. I let my gaze travel over the bookshelves that lined three of the four walls. The dark blue carpet continued in here, as well, and as my eyes followed it to the back of the room a desk broke its continuity. Behind the desk sat an older gentleman, who I assumed was Dr. Wammy.

My heart began to pound furiously in my chest. Beside his desk was a large, red cushioned chair, in which sat a curious-looking young man. His wide black eyes were fixed on me as he chewed on his thumbnail, and his hair shot out in all directions, as if he had just climbed out of bed. He wore a simple long sleeved white shirt and blue jeans.

As I gazed at him he pulled his knees up to his chin, bare feet now in the chair with him.

"Ah, Roger! Good to see you!" Dr. Wammy broke the silence, gesturing toward two blue chairs in front of the desk. "And you must be Miss Benjamin." He smiled at me; his congeniality somehow calmed my jittery nerves enough to respond.

"Yes, sir." I said, bowing a little out of habit. Dr. Wammy chuckled.

"No need for such formalities, child. Please, come sit down, both of you!" Roger and I promptly crossed the room and took our seats. Dr. Wammy extended a hand toward me; I shook it and tried to smile. He frowned a little. "Why so nervous, dear? This isn't an interview, you know. You've already been accepted; if not, you wouldn't be here!"

"I don't know. I suppose…being in a foreign country for the second time in a month and meeting someone as distinguished as you set my nerves on edge." I laughed a little as I replied and rubbed the back of my neck, feeling my cheeks go hot.

Dr. Wammy beamed and patted my hand.

"This will soon become your home. Everything takes time, my dear."

I nodded in agreement.

"Well, first things first, I suppose. Introductions. You already know who I am, but I'll say it again. My name is Quillsh Wammy, owner and director of this establishment." He glanced over at the youth next to him with something close to adoration. "And I'll let you introduce yourself."

The young man stood up and faced me, coal black eyes studying me intently.

"I am L." he said simply, as if the name should have meant something.

"Nice to meet you." I said, staring at him confusedly.

He mimicked my expression and scratched his head.

"I don't want to seem big-headed or anything, but…you haven't heard of me?"

I shook my head, at a loss. L reverted to gnawing on his nail.

"I guess that's a good thing, in a way. I'm not as famous as I thought." He glanced down at the floor, and then back up at me. "I am considered one of the world's greatest detectives. The greatest, according to some."

"According to all." Dr. Wammy corrected. L made no effort to correct him; he merely continued to stare at me.

My eyes widened.

"That's…that's amazing!" I stammered. "Were you behind the L.A. case?"

L nodded. "The main force. I worked closely with Naomi Misora."

I had to force myself not to gape.

"It's…an honor to meet you." I said after a moment.

L just nodded, still chewing on that thumbnail.

"I'm sorry about your parents, but I'm glad you decided to come here. I have a feeling that we'll be needing more linguists like yourself in the future, when cases are worldwide." L paced a little, and then stopped and fixed me with a curious stare. "What is your name?" His sudden question startled me a little. "I saw it when we were researching your files, but it seems to have slipped my mind."

"Ashelle." I said, offering a belated hand. He took it and shook it quickly; his grip was uncertain and his fingers were frigid.

"Ashelle." He said, trying the name. He sat back down in the chair and hugged his knees. "Do you mind if I call you Ash? It's a lot easier to remember."

"Not at all." I replied, trying to hide a smile. The room fell silent for a moment as L resumed his chewing.

"Well, if there's nothing you'd like to add, Roger, I believe we can show Miss Benjamin here to her room." Dr. Wammy said with a smile.

"Indeed." Roger said.

After exchanging polite goodbyes with Dr. Wammy and the enigmatic L, Roger led me down the rest of the lavish hall and stopped at the end door. The plaque read Stairs.

"These are the stairs, as you might have guessed." Roger said, gesturing at the door. I pushed it open and peeked inside; the stairs were white marble, but unlike the set outside these had an elegant blue carpet running up the middle. I raised my eyebrows in appreciation.

Next, he led me to the right and stopped at the end of this corridor, in front of golden elevator doors, and pressed the call button. Within a few seconds the car rattled down, the doors opened, and Roger ushered me aboard.

"I hope you liked those stairs." He said, pressing the third floor button. "You're going to have to use them from now on."

I chuckled nervously as the car shot up.

The elevator doors opened up onto a very small corridor, this time carpeted in a lush green. I glanced dubiously at Roger, who smiled reassuringly.

"This is the right floor, I promise." He said, leading me down the hallway to the right. We passed a couple more doors before stopping at one that read Stairs. He ushered me through it and then through another that said Girl's Dorms.

The door opened onto another large corridor, like the one on the first floor, only carpeted in a lush green. Many white doors, directly across from each other, lined the hall at even intervals, their golden plaques proclaiming numbers.

Roger led me to the second door on the left and pulled a small silver key from his pocket.

"This is it. Room 5B." He pressed the key into my hand and smiled gently. "While you explore, I'm going to go make up your class schedule. Then we'll tour the upper floors, eat a quick luncheon down in the cafeteria, and I'll find a girl your age to help you for the first couple of days."

"Thank you." I said, suddenly very grateful.

"You're most welcome, Miss Benjamin." Roger said gently, and then walked back down the hallway. As the Stairs door closed with a hiss behind him, I examined the surprisingly heavy silver key in my hand, tracing the number engraved in its head. 5B.

I wiggled my toes in anticipation and slid the little key into the lock.

When I pushed the door open, a small chandelier lit up in the center of a little corridor. Puzzled, I ventured into the hall, pulling the door closed behind me. Famous words from The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe echoed in my mind:

"It is very foolish to shut oneself into any wardrobe."

I smiled, feeling somewhat like the adventurous Lucy.

Although that is very foolish, I thought, this isn't a wardrobe.

A few more steps revealed another white door, devoid of any other identifying feature.

Taking a deep breath, I twisted the knob and entered my room.

It was so beautiful, so perfect, that I dropped the key and then promptly fell to my knees.

Thank You, thank You, thank You! But inward praise wasn't enough. The same words tumbled past my lips in a frenzy of gratitude, and tears of joy and awe streamed down my face.

This continued for a few moments until I finally regained my composure and stood. The first thing that drew my attention was the size. It was much bigger than I expected it to be, only a little smaller than Dr. Wammy's Office. As I examined the wall color, a beautiful, deep maroon, I understood the discussion I'd had with Roger on the way to the airport.

They'd catalogued my favorite things and combined them all in this room.

The carpet was the next feature I fell in love with; the thick, soft, chocolate brown fabric made me want to throw my shoes off and nestle my feet into it. I gave into that desire and wiggled my toes down deep.

I realized that I was still standing in the doorway and ventured further inside, making for the queen size, four-poster bed directly in front of me. A light pink, sheer canopy cascaded down the sides, and the maroon bedspread with matching pink embroidery set it off beautifully. Similarly colored pillows had been placed at the head of the bed, and right in the middle of the bedspread sat an object that made me burst into tears all over again.

I dove onto the bed and scooped up my mother's cream-colored teddy bear, weeping incessantly into its fur. It still smelled like her; I sat there, rocking back and forth with the bear for what seemed like hours, until my sobs finally abated.

Taking the bear with me, I resolved to explore the rest of the room. Who knew what other treasures from home Dr. Wammy had managed to obtain?

I slid from the bed and padded over to a large desk, outfitted with a laptop, writing utensils, a lamp, and a few notebooks. On top of the stack of notebooks sat my bright red journal from home; I smiled as I ran my fingers over its cloth cover for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. Flanking the desk were two large bookshelves. A family picture from home sat proudly on the middle shelf of each case.

I turned my attention toward the window, where afternoon sunlight streamed in. It was a bay window with a cushion, and a built in bookshelf below the seat. I knelt and examined the tomes; my treasured favorites from home were all present, including my father's Bible. I carefully plucked it from the shelf, eyes welling once more, and thumbed through the pages. He had scrawled notes on many of the margins, asking questions and making comments on passages that touched him. A picture of me and Mother served as his bookmark; he had stopped in Ephesians.

I read a few verses and continued to thank God.

Thank You, thank You!

When Roger entered the room about ten minutes later, I had made myself at home in the bay window and was scanning the pages of C.S. Lewis's The Silver Chair, Mother's bear tucked safely under my arm.

"Comfortable, I take it?" he said, waiting politely in the doorway. I leapt from the cushion, abandoning the book, and jubilantly threw my arms around his neck.

"Thank you so much! You don't know how much all of this means to me!" My gratitude spilled out, jumbled up but sincere.

Roger, a little taken-aback, patted my back awkwardly.

"No trouble at all, dear."

I quickly released him and felt a blush creeping up.

"You have that schedule?" I asked, stooping to pick up the fallen key. Roger chuckled and led me back through the hall and up the stairs.

The two upper floors, I soon discovered, were nothing but classrooms, five on each side of the hallway. The fourth floor contained language and arts, and the fifth floor was devoted to logic, deduction, and mathematical skills.

"We believe in teaching well-rounded individuals." Roger said as we made our way down the marble stairs to lunch. "It makes it easier on them when they find their way in the real world."

I nodded.

"Completely understandable." I said.

As we pushed open the first floor door, my heart began to pound. Dozens of voices could be heard from the open cafeteria doors; I suddenly became self-conscious and smoothed down my blouse hurriedly. Roger gave me a confused sidelong glance.

"Are you alright?" he said. As we neared the doors I realized somewhat absentmindedly that we'd come in from the opposite side of the hallway.

"Yes, I'm fine." I said, my voice trembling. I cleared my throat and forced a smile.

Roger didn't look convinced, but he led me into the cafeteria all the same.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long...I've just started college and it's taken me a while to get back in the swing of things. And there's no Bible verse for this one...it's within the story, I suppose. -LOL- Hope my faithful readers haven't given up on me... :(

_**Chapter Five: August 28, 2002**_

The children, to my dismay, all stopped talking when Roger and I entered the room. Every set of eyes was locked on me as I clung desperately to Roger's arm, staring at the ground as if it would crack open beneath me if I looked away.

"Please, you're making her nervous." Roger said with a sigh. "Eat your food and stop gawking."

Immediately talk broke out, though I could still feel curious eyes drilling into my back. And I knew that I was the main topic of each conversation in the cafeteria.

I didn't even notice what Roger had scooped onto my tray until we were seated at a back table, with only two other children sitting at the opposite end.

"It's…but how…" I gaped at the scrumptious-looking shrimp scampi on my plate in wonder. It was my favorite dish! "Did you prepare this for me?"

Roger nodded a little, smiling.

"We thought it might make you a little more comfortable." He said. "Now stop staring at it and eat!"

I did so quite readily. But as I stuffed the third forkful in my mouth, I glanced up and caught a piercing blue gaze.

One of the two children at the table was staring at me relentlessly. I hurriedly looked away and finished chewing my food, and then cautiously cast a sideways glance toward the boy. His wide blue eyes continued to take me in, unblinking, unmoving. I found myself trapped by his icy gaze; Roger glanced up, saw that I wasn't eating, and followed my line of sight.

"Mello, please stop staring. It's not polite." He scolded. The boy called Mello reluctantly returned to his food. I finished my lunch quickly, eager to be away from prying eyes.

"Sorry about that." Roger apologized once we were out in the hall. "Curious minds…curious minds."

I chuckled nervously.

He insisted that we wait in the hall until the girl he had chosen to guide me emerged from the cafeteria.

I watched the children pass by; they were silent, and as they passed me not one of them could keep their eyes averted.

_Father, am I really that much of a freak?_ I asked God silently.

Finally Roger stepped forward, toward a pretty brunette with olive skin and gorgeous green eyes. He led her over to me; at least she pretended to not be surprised by my presence.

"Isabel, I'd like you to meet Ash." I grinned a little as Roger used L's nickname. "Ash, meet Isabel."

"It's a pleasure." I said sincerely, bowing slightly out of habit.

"Pleasure's all mine." She replied, extending a slender hand toward me.

As we shook hands, grinning warmly at each other, I could tell we would be friends.

"Isabel, I need you to escort Ash around the rest of the House, and out onto the grounds. Give her a nice tour."

"Will do." Isabel said. Roger smiled at me.

"And don't go getting into any trouble. Have fun."

With that he turned and left us standing there.

"Well." Isabel said, gesturing across the hallway, "I suppose we shall explore the rec rooms first."

The morning quickly gave way to noon as Isabel cheerfully led me throughout the rest of the building. The rec rooms turned out to be four rooms arranged in a square, all connected by sliding doors. One was for television, one for arts and crafts, one for games, and one just to hang out in. Isabel then led me outside onto the grounds in the back, where an empty pool sat waiting for summertime.

Back inside, she led me down to the basement.

"This is where the teachers sleep." She said.

I gazed around, amazed that this was the basement. The only way one would ever know was the fact that there were no windows. Otherwise, it looked just like the rest of the building.

She led me down to the end of the hallway and opened a heavy steel door.

"And this is where we go in case of natural emergencies, such as tornados, or unnatural ones, such as a bomb threat." We stepped inside a dark corridor and in through another, lighter sliding door. The concrete-enforced chamber was huge, with room for every person in the building to sleep, eat and live.

"This is amazing." I whispered.

"Have you seen your room yet?" she said, a hint of excitement in her voice.

I nodded; her eager smile faded a little.

"But you can see it if you want to." I quickly added. "Where's your room?"

"5A." she said. I smiled.

"Mine's 5B."

Isabel grabbed my hands and danced in a little circle.

"I knew it, I knew it!" she laughed. "They've been creating the biggest ruckus ever back there for the last couple of days. I knew it had to be your room!"

I couldn't help but laugh with her. Suddenly she stopped and pulled me toward the stairs. "Come on, let's go!"

Up the stairs we went, chattering like little birds.

"My room is all in purple and blue, and I've got stripes on almost everything." Isabel declared as we reached the second floor landing.

"Mine is maroon and-" I was cut short when the boy Mello burst through the second floor door. He glanced from me to Isabel, and then fixed his gaze on me, just like at lunch.

But this time, instead of curiosity in his icy stare, I found malice. The angry expression seemed so out of place on his young face, framed with clean-cut, shoulder length blond hair. I found I couldn't break his gaze this time and grew increasingly anxious as the seconds ticked away.

"I…I'm sorry." I finally managed to stammer, face burning and eyes welling.

Mello just continued to stare at me, his eyes narrowed now.

Isabel tugged on my sleeve.

"Come on, Ash. He's just being a pompous jerk."

Finally Mello turned that cold glare on Isabel, and I shuddered as his blue eyes released me. "Leave her alone, Mello." Isabel spat. "She's done nothing to you."

Mello simply turned and disappeared back through the second floor door.

As Isabel and I climbed the stairs, my fingers trembled on the railing. I felt like crying; I felt like screaming, though I didn't know which one would happen first.

What on earth was Mello's problem?

Isabel noticed my shaking hands and stopped, grabbing them.

"Don't let that jerk get to you, Ash." She said, her voice soft and earnest. "He thinks that just because he's second smartest here he can do whatever he wants."

My eyes widened.

"Second smartest? Like, second highest IQ or something?"

Isabel laughed, and we continued up the stairs.

"Something like that." she said. There was a hint of something more in her voice, like she was withholding something from me, but I ignored it.

"I love it!" Isabel exclaimed in the doorway of my room. She ran straight over to the bay window and collapsed rather jubilantly on the cushion. "I don't have one of these in my room. My room is sort of like a cave." She stared out the window sadly.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, you can come in here whenever you like and sit in the window." Isabel glanced up at me, eyes wide.

"You don't mean that!" she said, sliding from the cushion.

I nodded, smiling.

"I really do. You can come in here whenever you want."

She hugged me rather tightly; her repetitive 'thank yous' reminded me of when I had first come in this room, only a few hours earlier.

I smiled and awkwardly patted her back. We were going to be friends for sure.

Later on that night, at dinner, Isabel showed me to her table. Only a few other children sat there, and they generally ignored us, which I was grateful for. We chatted amiably as we ate, but I found my gaze being drawn inevitably to the back table, where Roger and I had sat earlier. Mello and the other boy sat there, eating in silence, eyes downcast toward their food.

It gave me a little comfort to know that Mello wasn't glaring again. Instead of studying him, I turned my attention to the other boy, the one who had remained anonymous. He was rather small, dressed in what appeared to be white pajamas. He had equally white, curly, thick hair, which he occasionally twirled around his finger.

He glanced up at me; I quickly looked away, pretending to be busy stuffing my face.

A few moments later, I found myself staring again. Isabel was talking to me, but when she realized I wasn't responding she followed my gaze.

She heaved a sigh. "I told you not to worry about him. He isn't even looking this way."

"I know." I said, taking a bite of my lasagna. "I wasn't staring at him."

Isabel glanced at the other boy. "Oh, I see."

"Who is he?" I asked rather suddenly.

"Well, that's Near." She said. Her voice held a hint of awe. "He's supposed to be the smartest in the House."

I chewed my food slowly as I processed her words.

"That's amazing." I said. "I never would have guessed."

"I know, right?" Isabel said. We laughed a little, but as I glanced back toward their table I met a cold glare from Mello.

"There he goes again." I said, suddenly feeling sick.

What on earth was his problem?

I realized I'd slammed my fork down on the table after the fact. Isabel glanced at me worriedly.

"Don't let him get to you, Ash." She said, placing a hand on my back.

I glanced at her; my pride urged me to stare him down, to stand my ground.

But when I turned back to him, he was focused on his food again.

My anger only increased at this.

_Come on, do it again._ My ego begged. _I dare you._

Isabel patted my back; her simple gesture squelched the fires of indignation within.

I felt my cheeks flushing with remorse.

_Father, forgive me._ I prayed silently as Isabel and I retreated to my room.

That night, I dreamed of them for the first time since the accident. I'd been told by both Light and his dad that I was still in denial; in other words, I still hadn't fully accepted that they were gone. My beautiful, beautiful parents…

I was in Dr. Wammy's office, talking with him about my parents, talking about things we'd done and seen and joked about, such personal things that I almost questioned why I was talking to him about them at all. But, after all, it was a dream. Who was I to question the obvious order of things in my mind?

"Ah, yes, they were such wonderful people," Dr. Wammy said, patting my hands comfortingly. "But they're gone now, and you live here now."

I ogled at him, wondering how he could be so insensitive. I rose to storm away, and found myself face to face with a pair of coal black eyes, eyes that seemed to be burned into the retinas of my own. But instead of peering out from the guiltless face of my parent's killer, they were set into the childlike face of L.

"We want you here, Ash." He hissed past the thumbnail that seemed to be stuck eternally in his mouth. And with those words he transformed; his clothes turned black, his hair shrunk back into his scalp and was hidden with a dark toboggan. But those eyes remained the same, eyes so full of greed and lust it seemed they would burst.

Suddenly Dr. Wammy's office swirled with color. The bookshelves melted away, the blue carpet dissolved and became hard and dark gray, with white lines etched onto it at regular intervals, and there were now cars in each space, including our own blue Camry.

_The parking lot_.

"No." I was standing in the doorway of the Comfort Inn, staring as Father fell again, in slow motion. I could see the blood spreading through the fabric of his shirt, soaking into each little thread and fiber, staining it forever with his life. I could hear Mother's cries, but only faintly; my own mind was screaming its protests, buckling under the monstrous weight of this sight, this memory. Only seconds later-or was it hours?-I watched as the thief strode over to Mother and shoved the barrel against her temple.

I didn't cry out this time; something deep within knew it would do no good. My grief drained away in a swirl of nothingness, just as the second shot rang and sent Mother's blood spraying everywhere.

I couldn't feel. My eyes widened as this realization hit me. _I couldn't feel…_ There was nothing left of me. My only family had just been murdered for a second time, but I felt…_nothing_. No little whispering voice from God, no sudden rage, no desire to cry or scream or live…it was as if everything I was had been deadened, just as the gunshot had left my ears dull and ringing.

But as the thief pointed the gun at my head once more, one solitary, black wave came crashing down on me, drowning my will to live, to fight, to go on after my life had just been stolen from me.

"Kill me! Please, just kill me!" I screamed, the sound of my own raw, torn voice sending shivers down my spine.

The thief complied this time; there were no sirens to distract him. I watched the bullet speed toward my face with something like relief.

_I won't have to live without them._

There was no pain, but I knew the bullet had hit its mark. And as metal pierced flesh and bone, I felt something snap deep within me, in the core of my being, the depths of my soul.

"AAAAAARRRRRGGGGHH!" I screeched, the bullet sending me flying backwards onto the pavement. I didn't know what it was that made me scream, but I couldn't stop. My face was thrown to the sky, my lips spread as far as they could go, my vocal cords tearing apart within my throat.

And the more I screamed, the more I knew I would never be able to stop.

…_Is this what madness feels like?… _

"Ash!" The sky turned bright above me; I shut my eyes against it, and then gasped for breath in the sudden silence. It confused me for a moment, until I realized that I'd stopped screaming. "Ash, what's wrong?" There were arms around me, and muffled, frantic voices coming from all around. Among them I could hear Dr. Wammy's voice, shushing the others.

_It had all been a dream_. Of course. With this realization tears began pouring down my cheeks; I hid my face in the arms of whoever was holding me and sobbed with all my strength.

"It's alright, Ash. You're here, you're safe. It's okay." The voice vibrated through their chest and into my ears; it was Isabel, my best friend. She ran her fingers over my hair comfortingly. "Shh."

Somehow it worked; within minutes my tears stopped, and I took a deep, shuddering breath and pulled away from her. Three or four other, unfamiliar faces peered back at me, along with Dr. Wammy's, whose wrinkled and friendly visage instantly soothed my raw, frayed nerves.

"I-I'm fine now." I said weakly, shocked by the roughness of my voice. "Sorry to wake you all."

Dr. Wammy smiled.

"No need to apologize, Ash. These girls just wanted to make sure you were alright." As I studied their faces, I noticed they were all younger than me, and staring at me concernedly.

"I'm surprised more of them didn't come running. You would have thought someone was murdering you." Isabel remarked. Dr. Wammy cleared his throat meaningfully and aimed a warning glance in her direction, but I was only a little taken-aback. She'd been right, in a way.

"Well, thank you, all of you." I mumbled with a weak smile. "I'll be alright now."

Isabel stood and touched my shoulder gently.

"If you need me, I'm right next door."

I nodded. Dr. Wammy followed her out with a gentle smile; the four girls filed out as well. The last one, a girl of around eleven, reached out and grabbed my hand as she passed.

"I hope you'll be okay." She said, fixing me with big brown eyes. It took me a couple of seconds to regain my composure, but when I did I squeezed her hand.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. Thank you."

She smiled and left, closing the door behind her.

_Now what, Daddy? _I asked God silently. _How am I supposed to deal with this?_

There was no answer, but something like a strong, golden determination swelled within.

_Lo, I am with you, even to the end of days. _The familiar verse echoed in my being, calming me from the inside out. I stood, holding Mother's teddy bear close to my chest, and crossed the room to turn out the light.

I would sleep, and I would dream. Whether about them or not, I couldn't and wouldn't worry about it. It was out of my control. I would remember them for days, months and years to come, and cry, and wonder why. But they were gone, and I had to face that fact. They weren't going to magically come back. And while no one would ever replace them, God was the completion of my soul. He could and would carry me through this.

_And so I tiptoed back to my bed and settled in under the comforter with those words in my mind._


	7. Chapter 6

Sorry for the long wait, guys. I hope someone out there is still willing to read this...O.o I'm a lot more picky about this story than my other one, and that's why it takes me so long to update. But yes...enjoy, review, tell me what needs to be improved or if something seems off. I do appreciate constructive criticism. :)

Chapter Six: September 9, 2002

"_A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger."_

_Proverbs 15:1_

The first day of classes came about two weeks later, as promised by Roger. I hadn't had any more nightmares about my parents, but I had dreamed of them, mostly memories of our life together. I was grateful; I'd much rather remember them within a happy context. I knew my God was helping me through this, and this was one of His methods.

I'd reviewed the schedule Roger had given me in the meantime. Isabel had the same classes. She'd added, to my relief, that Mello and Near weren't in any of those classes with us.

So, on the morning of September 9, at seven-thirty sharp, I hit the snooze button on my alarm clock and rolled over, retrieving Mother's teddy bear from the other side of the bed.

"Just another few minutes," I mumbled, burying my nose and face in the bear's sweet-smelling fur.

As soon as I'd drifted back to sleep, a sharp rapping on my door startled me awake.

"Ash, it's Isabel!" Isabel's cheerful, sing-songy voice echoed in the hall outside my door. I grudgingly slid out of bed and opened the door; she bounded in with far too much enthusiasm for my tastes. "It's the first day of the new school year! Aren't you excited?"

I groaned a little and flopped back onto the bed. "Oh, no, you don't!" She grabbed my hands and pulled me back up. "Come on, you've got to get ready!"

"Alright, alright," I said, standing to silence the alarm clock again.

I gathered up my clothes, spent about twenty minutes in the bathroom making myself look presentable, and then found Isabel. She approved of my outfit, and then we were off, up the stairs to the fifth floor for our first class of the day.

The clock outside of the _Logic and Reasoning _class read 7:59 as we entered the sliding doors and took seats at the back of the room. I marveled at the size of the room; there were only about fifteen students in the class, and yet it was enormous. The mentor, as Roger preferred us call our teacher, stood waiting in front of a large white board, smiling patiently as we all settled down.

There was no bell to announce the start of class; when the minute hand touched the twelve, the mentor began.

I was entranced from the very first moment, grateful that the mentor hadn't mentioned my newness to the class. In fact, the mentor acted as if I had been a student at the House all my life. He quickly but thoroughly introduced himself, and then started us right in with a few brain-teasing puzzles.

He seemed a bit surprised when I was the first one finished. Looking over my work and explanations, his eyebrows arched.

"Good work, Miss Benjamin," he said, nodding his head slightly to me. The rest of the class, including Isabel, stared at me as if I were a freak. I shrunk down into my seat.

After class, Isabel explained the incident.

"He's never given compliments before," she said in a hushed voice. We were making our way down the stairs to breakfast; I raised my eyebrows at this.

"Surely that's not true," I said.

She shook her head fervently.

"I promise it is. The only two he's ever given compliments to are…well, _them._"

I assumed she meant Mello and Near and laughed.

"You've got to be kidding me," I said.

But I'd known her long enough to recognize when she was joking and when she was being serious.

She stared at me intently, her big green eyes saying everything she needed to say.

"Wow," I said simply as we exited the stairwell and entered the cafeteria.

"Yeah. Wow," She replied.

The rest of the day continued similarly; by the end of the afternoon I was almost positive that I'd been branded a freak by the entire House, Isabel excluded. I had really enjoyed my classes, though, and no matter how people looked at me, I was determined not to let it get to me.

"They're just jealous," Isabel said as we walked to lunch together. She patted my back. "Like I've said before, don't let it bother you."

"I'm trying," I said dubiously, biting my lip. "I really am."

After lunch, Isabel and I decided to spend a little time in the rec rooms. The news was on in the TV room, and as Isabel followed the stories I penned a note to Light. I wasn't sure exactly how I was going to get it to him, but decided to ask Roger about it the next time I caught him.

It took me about ten minutes; I made sure not to mention anything about L or the whereabouts of the orphanage.

Nothing interesting was on with the news, so I bid Isabel goodbye for the moment and went in search of Roger. I found him in the cafeteria, discussing something with one of the workers.

"Ah, Ash!" he said as I approached. The grateful looking worker scurried away as soon as Roger turned his back. "I've heard good reports about you today."

"I'm glad," I said truthfully, smiling a little. Roger beamed, glancing at the letter in my hands.

"What is that?" he asked. I gave it to him.

"It's a letter. I want to send it to the Yagami's, if that's possible."

"Of course. We'll just set you up a P.O. box and you can send letters all you want to." He folded the letter carefully and tucked it away in his jacket. He patted me on the back. "I hate to run, but I've got something I need to settle with these workers." He strode off purposefully toward the kitchen doors. I chuckled a little and turned to leave.

I had to stop myself from screaming. Instead I let out a small squeak of fright as I came face to face with cold blue eyes and almost fell as I scrambled away.

"I'm sorry…I didn't see you there." My hurried apology did nothing to release me from Mello's cruel stare. I found myself trapped again by his mysterious anger.

Suddenly, a defiant rage swelled within me. Instead of cowering under his gaze, I found myself returning it with equal energy.

The unbidden anger freed my voice from his spell as well.

"What is your problem, anyway?" I heard myself hiss. I felt a small sense of triumph as surprise registered on Mello's features. "Why do you hate me?" My voice swelled until it rang in the empty cafeteria. "What did I do to you? Please, I'm dying to know. Because if I have to deal with your nasty little glares all the time, I think I deserve to know why."

Mello narrowed his eyes at me; one corner of his mouth lifted into a small smirk.

"It's about time," he said. His voice took me aback; for such a young boy, he sounded like a person twice his age.

But before I could ask him to elaborate, he turned on his heel and stalked away.

I wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily.

"Wait a minute!" I cried, running after him. But when I reached the main corridor, he was nowhere to be found.

My rage abated once I was safely in my room. I collapsed to my knees and sobbed.

_Father, please, please forgive me. _

Hadn't I learned by now not to fight fire with fire?


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: Hello to all my beautiful readers! Thanks for hanging in there with me...this is finals week and the pressure's on! =) Enjoy Chapter 7!

Chapter Seven: November 9, 2002

"_Let them praise His name with the dance."_

_Psalm 149:3_

Two months at the House passed more quickly than I could have imagined. Since my explosion in the cafeteria, it seemed that Mello had made it a point to keep away from me. I was grateful, of course, but a little hurt. I'd been secretly hoping that with time he'd get over whatever it was that plagued him.

Instead I prayed for him, every day, each time I saw him.

_Father, only You know what ails him. Only You can heal him._

I'd quickly gotten used to daily classes; there were five each day, Monday through Thursday, spread out with long breaks in-between. Fridays were dedicated to physical activities; Roger would give all the children an opportunity to venture outdoors and swim, play ball, or just run around and be free for a while. Needless to say, I liked it a lot better than public school back in the States.

Every night I devoted time to God. I talked to Him about my day, about how much I longed for Mother and Father, and how grateful I was for His guidance and love. Isabel found my practice a little strange; I would kick her out of my room for about an hour and then let her back in.

"You're a hermit crab," She remarked one night after a particularly long talk with God.

I shrugged and smiled.

Now it was Saturday. Breakfast was served at around nine on weekends, and so promptly at nine-fifteen Isabel and I met outside of our dorms and traipsed down the marble steps together.

But as we entered the cafeteria, dozens of curious, complaining voices filled the large room. No one had their food yet; Dr. Wammy himself stood in front of the entrance to the line, denying access to it.

As Isabel and I took our places, we realized we were the last ones to arrive.

"What's going on, I wonder?" Isabel whispered, scooting closer to me. I shrugged. The children had all quieted upon our arrival, and were looking expectantly toward Roger, who stood patiently in the middle of the room. He smiled at us when we caught his eye and cleared his throat.

Silence engulfed the room.

"I apologize for the inconvenience of all this," Roger said, his voice filling the cafeteria. "But we knew if we let you eat first, we wouldn't have the opportunity to speak to all of you at once."

There were scattered murmurs around the room; Roger gently shushed them.

"There's nothing bad happening, nothing big and dramatic, don't worry."

A couple of sarcastic 'Aww's went up throughout the room. Roger stilled them with a glare. "Now, the news we have is this. Effective today, we are going to be working in an extracurricular extension of the Diplomacy class."

Complaints erupted everywhere. "Would you let me finish?" Roger cried.

The room was blanketed in silence again.

"There, that's better. Now, before you all dismiss our little side project, let me tell you what it entails. Every Saturday from now until December 21, we will be learning a variety of different ballroom dances." Roger continued in the stunned silence that followed his announcement. "I'm sure you can all see how this relates to diplomacy. And, Dr. Wammy and I thought it might be a nice change of pace for you, seeing as you're crammed into classrooms all week." Still no one spoke. "Dancing is a way to learn to loosen up, get comfortable around others, and practice social skills. It also keeps one fit."

I glanced toward the back table inadvertently; both Near and Mello were fixed on Roger, unmoving, their faces expressionless.

"Now, we've made arrangements for a professional instructor to arrive today and teach you. If you all learn well, we'll have a Christmas Eve dance here at the House." This finally elicited a response from the students; some gasped with delight, others groaned. Roger continued. "But Dr. Wammy and I'd like to ask your opinion. If a majority wants to keep the Diplomacy extension, we'll go through with it. If a majority rejects, obviously the extension doesn't happen. I'll give you all a moment to think it over, and then we'll vote by raising of hands."

Roger joined Dr. Wammy by the food line, and talk immediately erupted.

Isabel shook my shoulders jubilantly. "This is awesome!" she cried.

I smiled. "It would be fun. I've had a couple of waltz classes myself, but I've always wanted to learn more."

"Just think of it! An actual dance, here!" Isabel clasped her hands together and beamed. "We've never had the opportunity to do something this fun!"

The time passed quickly as the others discussed among themselves. Soon Roger had taken the floor again, this time with a small notepad and a pencil.

"Alright," he said. "Now, I don't want to scare you, but if the majority votes yes, the extension will be mandatory for everyone. That means it counts as a grade."

We all shook our heads; we'd figured as much.

"Now. All in favor of the extension, raise your hands high so we can count."

Isabel and I thrust our arms into the air. I snuck a glance to the back table; Mello and Near had their arms firmly planted on the table in front of them.

_It figures,_ I thought. _Those two never go outside, and they're not very social._

I glanced around at the rest of the students and noticed with glee that almost every other hand was up.

Roger finished counting and smiled.

"It seems we have a pretty firm majority. But just for the sake of democracy, all opposed to the extension, raise your hands."

Mello and Near and a few others raised their hands shyly. I counted the hands even as Roger recorded them on his notepad: seven students.

"Majority wins. The extension passes."

A cheer went up in the cafeteria.

"What about breakfast?" someone called over the ruckus.

Roger laughed, and Dr. Wammy stepped to the side.

"Help yourselves."

Isabel and I wolfed our breakfast down in our excitement. As we exited the cafeteria, Roger pulled us to the side.

"I wanted to let you know, as I've let the others know, that the instructors will be ready in the cafeteria at ten thirty."

Isabel and I glanced excitedly at each other. Roger caught my gaze and added in a softer voice, "And I wanted to tell you something alone."

Isabel smiled. "I'll meet you in my room, _amiga_."

I returned her grin and then turned politely back to Roger. His crinkly blue eyes seemed suddenly very serious, almost apologetic.

"Now, Ash, this is something that everyone else is going to find out about later. But I didn't want you to be startled or angry."

I raised a brow, tilting my head slightly.

"We have already assigned partners for the dance, based on their skills and weaknesses in certain areas. Each female student has been assigned a male student in her age group." He paused, as if unsure whether to go on. "Dr. Wammy and I have noticed…some rancor between you and Mello."

It all became suddenly clear. They'd partnered us together, of course.

_That's just my luck,_ I thought dryly. But even as the words registered I realized how shallow and cruel they were. _Father, please help me._

"So, we thought it best to pair you together, perhaps to diminish some of that rancor and make tensions more bearable." He regarded me carefully, as if I were a bomb about to explode. I merely stared at him expectantly, willing him to go on.

When he didn't, I sighed.

"I understand," I said. "I'm more than willing to try to make things work. The question is, will he be willing?"

Roger smiled sadly.

"Who knows?" he said. "All we can do is try. I want to thank you for your willingness."

"No problem," I said. He patted my shoulder and turned away.

I turned and dashed toward the staircase, biting back tears.

When I found Isabel in her room picking out sweatpants, the tears had made their escape. She immediately threw down the clothing and dashed to my side.

"What's wrong? Was it Mello again?"

I shook my head. _He may as well have!_

_Stop it!_ My true self argued. _You said yourself you wanted to make things work._

I shook my head again. "It's not me that's the problem!" I said aloud.

Isabel patted my back.

"Of course it isn't," she said, making me sit on the edge of her bed. "Now tell me what's wrong." I shook my head for a third time.

"I can't tell you. You'll find out later," I said, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. I stood. "I need to pray."

Isabel nodded, walking me to the door.

"I'll be in here if you need me," she said.

It struck me then that she hadn't pressed me for answers. It also struck me that I appreciated that enormously.

"Thank you," I said, turning in the doorway. She smiled.

"Anytime."

After fifteen minutes on my knees, my tears had stopped and had been replaced with a determination carved from steel. I turned to a familiar verse, in a book of the Bible that seemed to keep popping up lately.

_A soft word turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger._

I stared at the words in Proverbs, stunned by their simple truth.

_Thank You, Father. _I glanced at the clock: it was already ten.

I closed the Bible, placed it on my pillow, and prepared for the hurdle before me.

At ten fifteen, Isabel and I stood outside our dorms, commenting on the other's garb. We both knew that we were stalling simply because we were nervous.

"Alright, let's go," I said after five minutes of this exchange. Isabel chuckled, and we headed toward the stairs.

As we approached the cafeteria, excited voices drifted out to meet us. Stepping inside, we saw that the tables and chairs had all been folded down and pushed to the wall, revealing the large tiled floor beneath. The floor had been swept and mopped, for which I was grateful.

It seemed that everyone was early like us, and as Roger took roll only two students were missing.

"We're just waiting on Near and Mello," he announced.

Somehow it didn't surprise me.

Right on time, at ten thirty on the dot, the two boys entered the room, their appearance no different than when they'd left breakfast. Near was still in his pajamas, and Mello in his black sweater and jeans.

I was thankful Mello didn't look my way.

"Alright, now that we're all here, I have a little surprise for you."

We all glanced toward him eagerly.

"We've taken the liberty of partnering you."

Some complaints echoed through the room.

"Need I remind you that this _is _for a grade? 25 points for attendance, 25 for performance!" The students quieted at this.

Roger took advantage of the silence to start reading the list of partners. My heart began to pound loudly in my chest; my palms were slimy with sweat.

Isabel's partner was called, and she clapped with glee. Apparently she'd gotten someone good. I only wished I could be that lucky. I only wished I hadn't known.

_A soft answer turns away wrath…_

"And finally, Mello and Ash."

The students stopped their chattering to gape at me, and then at Mello.

I caught Isabel's eye; her eyes projected pity and awe.

"Everyone find their partner," Roger called in the silence.

But even among the renewed noise his announcement caused, I still heard what I hoped against hope that I wouldn't hear.

"No."

Mello's defiance was a quiet, simple declaration. Just one word. Funny how it had the power to chill me from the inside out.

The students all fell silent again. I reluctantly turned toward Mello; he stood glaring at Roger and Dr. Wammy.

_If looks could kill, that boy would have murdered me a long time ago. _The thought crossed my mind as I studied his cold stare.

Roger didn't look surprised. Instead, he glanced at me apologetically.

Mello took a few steps toward the man.

"I'll do the assignment. Just partner me with someone else."

I suddenly wanted to cry. I felt useless, unworthy. I knew I shouldn't, but I did.

"Mello," Roger said firmly, "the assignments are not negotiable, and certainly not accidental."

With that Roger turned and walked toward me. Mello just stood and stared after him.

"Ash, just take the initiative." Roger placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and whispered fervently in my ear. "We had a feeling he'd react like this. Surprise him. Don't let him think he's got the upper hand."

"You say it like it's a game," I said, trying not to let my mortification affect my voice.

Roger winked slightly. "It is, in a way. Win the game. Win his trust."

He smiled enigmatically before walking off, calling out for partners to find each other.

I stood for a moment, frozen in indecision. Then I remembered the steely determination God had given me earlier. How could I have let it waver so quickly?

_Father, guide me._

…_A harsh word stirs up anger._

I turned toward the still stunned Mello, gathered a deep breath, and took the first step.

_Give me strength,_ I prayed. As I took the next step, and then another, my rubbery legs stabilized. I stood a bit straighter, biting my lip.

Mello now stood less than two feet from me. I stopped; he refused to acknowledge me. He stared at the opposite wall, eyes wide with fury.

"Mello?" I purposefully said his name softly, almost as a question. He gave me a cold, sidelong glance. "I'm sorry."

"You say that a lot," he said. He finally turned to face me. "I'm sick of it."

Nonetheless he turned and led the way toward the rest of the students.

"Join hands with your partners." The instructor, an elderly but fit blonde woman, joined hands with Roger, her partner of choice. "This exercise is to form trust."

_You've got to be kidding._

Mello made no move to follow her directions. I sighed and grabbed his hands; they were clammy and warm, like my own.

To avoid the glare that would surely follow my bold move, I focused on the instructor.

The next half hour or so was filled with awkward exercises that caused constant physical contact between partners. I'm quite certain those thirty minutes were the most humiliating in my life.

Then, we moved on to the proper pose for waltz, which was really no better. In fact, the lesson only got worse from there.

"Now I want you to stay in your poses while I come around and correct you."

Mello and I were standing at least a foot away from each other, trying desperately not to look at each other. As we stood there uncomfortably, I happened to notice that he was about an inch taller than me.

When the instructor stopped in front of us, she laughed broadly and shoved us closer together. I found myself suddenly less than an inch from him.

"Loosen up!" she cried. "I'm sure you don't stink that bad." She noticed that our hands hovered close but didn't actually touch. "And at least try to act like you like each other." She pressed our fingers together and stepped back. "Other than that, your pose is perfect."

As she walked away, I noticed Mello's hands were trembling, one inside my own, the other against my back.

"If she ever does that again-" he began. I cut him off by stepping back and releasing him.

"I enjoyed it no more than you did," I said, my cheeks burning.

He fixed me with a glare, but some of the iciness was gone.

It was a start.

The next hour was spent learning the first basic steps. After stepping on my toes quite a few times, Mello finally seemed to get the hang of it. At one point, we completed the first four steps quite gracefully, even. The instructor seemed impressed.

Our awkward physical closeness was slowly but surely overcome by the joy of learning. Soon the constant pressure of his hands on my back and fingers felt almost natural as we moved across the floor.

He never once smiled, but the ice had melted from his eyes.

It was a very good start.


	9. Notice of Discontinuation

I will be discontinuing this story due to lack of interest. I realize it's probably because of the OC...and I don't particularly blame you for not wanting to read. Besides, I am hard at work on my Disney crossover, and I hope to start another crossover with Treasure Planet/Alice in Wonderland and perhaps a Labyrinth fic sometime in the future. =) Thanks to all who have read it before, and I apologize if there's someone out there who wanted to see this continued. Thanks to all of my beautiful readers; if you want to read something of mine I would direct you to my crossover 'God Help The Outcasts', a merge between Pocahontas, Cinderella and the Hunchback of Notre Dame.


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